


Talks of War

by Katlyn1948



Series: After The Long Night [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Some Canon, after the long night, also there is conversation between arya and gendry this time, canon can go fuck off, did I mention I hate tagging, talk of depression, we get into some deep shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27238444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katlyn1948/pseuds/Katlyn1948
Summary: Arya and Gendry discuss their earlier coupling and the war council meets.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: After The Long Night [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981213
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55





	Talks of War

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies,   
> how is everyon's week? Mine, you ask? Well it's shit. 
> 
> I am grieving and this is the best way I know how to do it. My uncle passed away last Friday and we are preparing for the funeral, which won't be until next week. 
> 
> But enough about that...I've added another part to this series that I should have just made a multi chapter fic because like...but I didn't and that's okay. 
> 
> Also, it's a bit in the head, if you get my drift. I think because I starting writing it on Saturday and I was like really in the feels. Anyway, I am okay, so you don't have to ask and I do appreciate any condolences you are thinking about giving. 
> 
> But that is not what I want. I just really want y'all to comment on the work that I've made, truly. I hope you enjoy and for those of you reading who also ready A Tale of Six Weddings, I will probably get the next part out in a few weeks. Thanks for the patience!

Smoke billowed up to the sky, letting those souls who perished rest in peace. Even as the hours had passed and the preparations for that night’s feast were underway, one could still smell the stench of burning bodies.

When they were set a flame, there was an eerie silence amongst the living, all watching as their friends, family and fellow soldiers were lifted to the Gods, old and new. No matter the faith, they were all there to mourn those that had fought valiantly against the dead.

Arya was tasked with lighting one of the pyres, taking over her sister’s pyre as she mourned the death of Theon Greyjoy. Her sister had yet to tell her of the detailed horrors she had endured while at the hands of Ramsey Bolton, only conveying that Theon had saved her from his clutches. She was sure they had created a bond that only two people with the same shared trauma could make.

Despite all of the betrayals he had thrust upon her family, she thanked the Gods that he was there for her sister, and for that reason only, she had forgiven him.

There was a part in Arya that wanted to weep when she saw the pyres lit. She wanted to weep for those who had lost someone, she wanted to weep for those who were still alive, and she wanted to weep away the years of pain she had endured. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Not when there was still one more war to be won.

She retreated back to the castle, following the hoard of bannermen to the council room. Her eldest brother was standing at the head, with Sansa to his right and the dragon queen to his left. The bannermen gathered around a large map of Westeros, tokens representing their remaining armies centered around King’s Landing.

Gendry was standing on the opposite side of the council room, farthest from where she was. They hadn’t spoken about their tryst in the forge; there wasn’t the time, but she knew that he would want to discuss it. She hadn’t said a word when she took him, just throwing her body onto his, hoping he would comply. It wasn’t because she wanted him, it was more out of mere opportunity. She was raging from her sister’s words and she needed to expel it.

It was different from when they were in the storeroom right before the horns sounded or even when they were alone in her chambers. It was faster, rushed and void of emotion. It was mere fuck rather than the vulnerability being with someone should be. It was the type of coupling that Arya thought she wanted, yet even as she had her release, it still felt hollow, and afterwards she felt no more than a common whore.

She had scurried to her rooms then, dunking herself into the tub of hot water the servant girls had left for her. She had scrubbed herself raw, wiping away his seed that had leaked out of her. She washed away the marks of his hands left behind by the soot upon them. She had nearly scrubbed away at her lips, wanting to forget the way his mouth had felt upon hers, but she halted. That kiss, despite their coupling, was real and she couldn’t wash that away.

As more and more bannermen and advisors crammed themselves into the already cramped quarters, she saw Gendry push through the crowd, Jon giving him a weary, yet approving, look. It seemed as if he was gearing up to speak to the room, addressing something important.

“Gentlemen…and ladies,” Jon spoke. “As you know we still have yet another battle to face.”

“That is not our problem.” A surviving lord of House Glover spoke.

Jon crinkled his brows, “Queen Daenerys brought her armies North to fight against the dead, now we repair the favor.”

“Besides, Cersei will stop at nothing to see that the North suffer under her reign. She must be stopped.” Sansa spoke, trying to convince what little of Northern houses remained. Arya knew of her sister’s dislike towards the dragon queen, so seeing her in such agreeance came as bit of a shock to Arya. Of course, her sister would die trying to protect the North, so it was no surprise she wanted Cersei Lannister dead.

“We must march for King’s Landing immediately.” Daenerys said. “The sooner she falls the sooner the independent North and the rest of six kingdoms and heal from her reign.”

Arya scoffed, “We just fought an army of the dead and you expect these men to march south to fight in yet another battle so soon. Might as well hand Cersei the Iron Throne because we’ll all end up dead.”

“Arya-” Her brother tried to warn, but Arya was quick tongued.

“ _King_ Jon,” She emphasized, quirking an eyebrow. “I may not know much about battles, but I do know that all of our men, including the Unsullied, need time to heal and rest. King’s Landing isn’t going to magically disappear. Let’s take time to strategize our next move.”

“I agree with the girl.” Tyrion spoke, giving Daenerys a worrying glance. He was scared of her, that much Arya could tell, but there was also an admiration behind his eyes. “My sister has scorpions perched atop the walls of King’s Landing. If you fly your children south so soon after this exertion, then they could get hurt. Or worse…killed.”

Daenerys pursed her lips but seemed to take into accord as to what the people around her had to say. They shouldn’t take an unnecessary risk, and Arya hoped the dragon queen saw that. 

“There’s also the matter of weapons.” Jon proceeded. “Gendry, how are the armories looking?”

Gendry cleared his throat and tossed Arya a pleading look. He was absolutely terrified, not at all accustomed to speaking to such a large group of people. Arya simply nodded, urging him on to speak.

“Not well, your grace. We have plenty of Dragon Glass weapons, but they will do little to help the coming battle in King’s Landing. But give me a few good men and about three moon turns we can make enough swords, spears, and arrow heads to equip everyone twice over.”

“Three moon turns?” Daenerys spoke. “Are you certain you can make that in three moon turns?”

“Aye, your grace, I can.”

Sansa cleared her throat, “That allows our men plenty of time for rest. We can regroup the remaining forces we have and perhaps convince surrounding houses of the other Six Kingdoms to join our cause.”

“And what makes you so sure they would join us?” Daenerys asked.

Arya could see the flicker of anger behind her sister’s eyes and she looked at Daenerys. “Because surely they are tired of a tyrannical reign with rising taxes and illness, with not enough food to feed their families like the rest of us are.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jon interrupted. “We march south in three moon turns.”

The council was adjourned, and Arya watched as her siblings retreated to from the war room, each in opposite directions. Jon scurried off after Daenerys and Sansa retreated to her chambers, no doubt. She could understand her sister wanting privacy, especially since she was to endure a feast sitting beside the dragon queen.

Arya had yet to make her decision about Daenerys Targaryen.

She was strong willed and one to speak her mind. No man talked down to her, for fear of what her children would do, but there was also something…deviant about the woman. She was loyal, to a point, and Arya truly feared for her family if they were to cross her.

But despite what underlying wickedness that could be hiding beneath Daenerys’ skin, Arya still admired the woman. If anything, she looked up to her. There weren’t many women in the world that possessed the qualities that Daenerys Targaryen held, not even Cersei Lannister. It was hard being a monarch, but being a woman and ruling was feat all on it’s own.

Arya was just a lady of a noble house, yet she was still used as political pawn in a deadly chess match. Now image being a woman like Daenerys Targaryen and having to play that game every minute of every day. It took a skill that Arya wasn’t sure she had or wanted.

As the last of the lords exited the council room, Arya made her way to where Gendry had lingered behind. He was standing in the far corner with his hands behind his back and his head hung low, giving her a weary glance. She went to stand before him, only then did his head rise and his gaze landed squarely on her grey eyes.

“I’m proud of you.” She said. “You spoke to those lords like a highborn.”

“As opposed to a bastard.” He said a bit too harshly.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Gendry sighed and gave a small nod, “I know…I’m sorry, it’s just…you bloody ran out on me after you attacked me in the forge.”

“I didn’t attack you.” She huffed.

Gendry gave a curt laugh, “Right, you just pushed me onto the cot and had your way with me.”

“Well I didn’t see you complaining.” Arya countered. She knew that she was in the wrong about the whole situation, and that Gendry was right, she had used him.

“Right, well it’s bloody well hard to when you’re straddling me! What was that, Arya? Because that was not like in the storeroom, nor was it like in your chambers.”

She flinched as he said her full name, the sound of it foreign to her ears. Whenever uttered from his lips, her name always sounded like a prayer, a reassurance. Now it sounded like disappointment.

“I needed a distraction.” There was no point in hiding the truth, she would tell him exactly what that was.

“And you saw me as a willing participant?” He dawned an exasperated expression, the lines by his eyes crinkling with frustration.

Arya shrugged, “You were just there, what was I supposed to do?”

“Talk to me about it, not fuck me and leave without so much a thank you!” He threw his hands in the air, completely irritated with the conversation.

“You could have stopped it. You could have said no, thrown me off of you.” She countered, trying to make what she did reasonable.

Gendry scoffed, “And have you never forgiven me? Not likely.”

He ran his hand through his growing hair and let out a frustrated sigh before placing himself in front of her small frame. Arya could see the hurt shining in his blue eyes. She flung her arms around him, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry.”

And then departed the council room, running to the only place she knew she could find solace within her own mind.


End file.
